So I got a perm. I've only had one in my entire growing up, and that was in college. I just really like change, so this time my hair was the victim. Brad always gets really nervous when I decide to change my hair. The first picture is right after I got home. The second one is my first attempt at doing it myself.
Here's some of the fun things about getting a perm (a friend told me to call it a body wave, because perm is a throw-back -to -jr. high -word). I walked in having looked up the word for 'perm' in my dictionary. They wanted to cut my hair and I kindly told them not to. So then, she handed me a magazine to pick out that kind of perm to get.
Back to get the hair washed. At this point, everybody in the store is a buzz about the foreigner who is getting a perm. I told the guy I was nervous. He reassured me as he took the comb out of his nicely permed and teased hair, only to comb mine out with that same comb. This same comb went from his hair directly into mine the entire time. Convenient, I guess. At least I wasn't with the guy that picked up his comb in between puffs on his cigarette. I studied my flash cards as I sat and he worked. We chatted about counterfeiting, my vocabulary words, hair, Yao Ming, and tons of other fun things.
About half way through, most of the other customers had left and they decided to make me feel more comfortable by putting on an English CD. They wrapped plastic wrap around my curlers and stuck me under a revolving hot fan thing. All of the time enjoying "You Gotta Know When to Hold 'Em" and "Puff the Magic Dragon". 3 hours later, I was done. I'm pleased and even better, Brad likes it.
